


The Right Way Past Scylla and Charybdis

by NotSimplySusurrus



Series: A Valiant Odyssey [2]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bondage, Caning, Corporal Punishment, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Light BDSM, M/M, Observed Masturbation, Praise Kink, Punishment, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSimplySusurrus/pseuds/NotSimplySusurrus
Summary: Onboard the Valiant during the Year That Never Was (in a sequel to Between Scylla and Charybdis) the Doctor gets his punishment for behaving badly and disobeying the Master when they last had sex.





	The Right Way Past Scylla and Charybdis

**Author's Note:**

> I did promise a sequel, and here it be! I'm slow asf when it comes to writing because, y'know, depression and what have you. Let me know what ya think :)

The Doctor’s limbs were already aching, though he’d only been tied up for a little over fifteen minutes. Even with his feet planted firmly on the ground, it was hard for him to get at all comfortable, as he had no good way to rest his head and both the collar around his neck and straps keeping his arms down were just a little too tight—not to mention that he was naked and feeling more exposed than ever before in his life. Though the Master hadn’t done anything to restrain his legs, the spanking bench was far too heavy for the Doctor to move it even a millimetre. Though the Doctor wanted to close his legs, he was much more physically comfortable with them spread. He only hoped no one could see him. 

“Was your trip here enjoyable?” The sound of the Master’s voice made the Doctor jump as much as he could in his restraints. The Master walked up behind him and caressed his arse. “I made this playroom just for you.” His fingers gently trailed up the Doctor’s back. 

“I’d have preferred not to have been dragged here naked,” the Doctor said, blushing at the memory despite sounding indignant. 

“It wouldn’t be a punishment if it were enjoyable,” the Master replied, walking around to where the Doctor could see him. He was smiling and held what appeared to be a long, slim stick in his hands. “Now tell me what you did to deserve punishment.” The Doctor nervously eyed what the Master held, wanting very much to ask what it was. 

“I said ‘no’ when you asked me to do something,” the Doctor said, hoping his answer was satisfactory. The Doctor didn’t want to be punished at all, but he especially didn’t want to make it worse than the Master had already planned.

“That’s right, little whore,” the Master said softly. He sounded almost loving—as if without actually saying it, he was trying to tell the Doctor ‘this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you’. The Doctor doubted that was true, even if the Master had actually said it. “Do you know what this is?” The Master asked. The Doctor quickly shook his head. “It’s called a cane, though it’s clearly not for walking.” The Doctor stared up at the Master, his eyes wide and terrified. 

“Are you going to hit me with it?” The Doctor asked. The Master leant down to kiss the Doctor’s cheek. 

“Clever boy,” he said. “Your pretty arse is going to be striped like those silly, horselike creatures—what are they called?” 

“Uh, zebras, Master.” The Doctor felt a shiver run through his body. How could the Master stand there and have such a casual conversation about beating him with a stick? Maybe the Master would go easy on him because this was his first punishment? But, then again, it hadn’t taken him all that long to misbehave. Perhaps he deserved harsh punishment for that. The Master walked around behind him where the Doctor couldn’t see. 

“You will count each stroke—thirty in total—and thank me for correcting your naughty behaviour,” the Master said, swinging the wooden cane. It made a ‘whooshing’ sound that would have been funny under different circumstances. “Lose track, and you’ll regret it. Is that understood, Doctor?” This addition had the Doctor feeling like he was going to be sick. He was nervous and afraid. Despite all of the instructions, the Doctor had no idea what to expect.

“Yes Master,” the Doctor said. The Master said nothing then, leaving the Doctor’s nerves to punish him before he used the cane to. 

Due to the noise the cane made when it was swung, the Doctor anticipated the first swat. He jumped nonetheless, giving a little yelp of pain. Initially, it stung fairly badly, and the Doctor felt that this was something he could handle. But the stinging was followed up a few seconds later by horrible, searing pain. The air compressed right out of the Doctor’s lungs, his mouth open wide in a silent scream. He gasped, forcing himself to breathe when he remembered that he was supposed to be counting and thanking the Master. “One...” The Doctor paused to steady his breathing. “Thank...you...Master.” 

By the time the Master was finished with him, the Doctor was sobbing, his arse far more than just striped: it was bloody. The total number of strikes was a bit over the originally promised thirty, as the Master had accidentally swatted the Doctor’s testicles a few times and said those didn’t count. The Master set the cane aside and cleaned up the blood silently, allowing the Doctor to cry uninterrupted. When there was nothing more to clean, the Master busied himself repositioning the Doctor. 

“I know it hurts,” the Master said, smoothing the Doctor’s hair down. The Doctor leant into his touch, whimpering quietly. The Master pulled one of the Doctor’s thighs up onto the spanking bench and secured a strap around his ankle. “And though I’d like to be done now as much as you would, I’m afraid you lost count.” 

“But...” Tears sprang to the Doctor’s eyes once more. “Please Master,” the Doctor said, careful not to say ‘no’ again lest his punishment be lengthened further. The Master hushed him, securing the Doctor’s other leg up on the spanking bench. “Please don’t hit me anymore. I’ll be a good boy, I promise, I’ll—”

“Doctor?” The Master asked, cutting the Doctor off. His voice was even and commanding as if daring the Doctor to speak out of turn again. “Tell me why you said ‘no’ to me.” 

“Because I didn’t want you to stop,” the Doctor said, his head dropping in shame. He hoped that the Master knew how sorry he was, but the Doctor was too afraid to speak out of turn again to voice another apology. 

“And why didn’t you want me to stop?” The Master asked. The Doctor looked up at the Master then, his head cocking to the side in confusion. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the Doctor replied. The Master smiled, cupping the Doctor’s face in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the Doctor’s cheek. 

“Given how desperate you were humping my thigh, I should think that this is rather obvious,” the Master said. 

“I wanted...” the Doctor trailed off, his cheeks heating at the thought of what the Master wanted him to say. “I wanted to cum.” 

“Now that’s a good boy.” The Master patted the Doctor on the head approvingly before walking off behind him. “Just one more punishment, and we can be done.” The Doctor yelped when he felt the Master’s hands on his tender arse. “Settle down. I’m not going to spank you again.” The Doctor’s body trembled beneath the Master’s touch as he worried over what his second punishment would be. The Master’s hands disappeared for a moment, only to reappear as one resting back on his burning arse and the fingers of the other slick and pushing into him. “Whores are all the same,” the Master mused. “So focused on their own pleasure that they forget about what’s most important.” The Master dragged his fingers over the Doctor’s prostate, drawing a lewd moan past his lips. “Now what ought to be most important to you?” Dazed by the recent shock of pleasure and confused by its odd reaction with how much pain he felt along with it, the Doctor had to think hard about this question. The Master had made himself abundantly clear about the Doctor’s comfort or pleasure not mattering very much, so the Doctor supposed that the only thing left was that of the Master.

“Master’s pleasure,” the Doctor said, feeling concerned as to where all of this was headed.

“That’s a good boy.” The Master’s hands disappeared once more, leaving the Doctor pleased by the absence of the one which had been resting on his arse and miffed by the absence of the fingers inside him. The Master walked back around to the Doctor’s front, one of his hands behind his back. He leant down and pressed a gentle kiss against the Doctor’s forehead. “You’ve been a naughty whore. A selfish whore.” The Doctor blushed, looking away. With his free hand, the Master tipped the Doctors face up to force the Doctor to look back up at him. “Being such a kind and giving Master, I shall allow you to indulge in your selfishness.” The Master revealed what he had behind his back with the usual flair which accompanied most all of his actions. “Surely you know what this is,” the Master said, waving the object around far closer the Doctor’s face than the Doctor would have liked it to be. The Doctor laughed nervously, alternately eyeing the oddly curved, purple...thing before him and the expression on the Master’s face. It was ribbed and a good size, but not too girthy that it wouldn’t fit in his...

The Doctor cursed quietly, his head sagging. He knew precisely what the Master had and what it was for. He wondered, however, what a dildo had to do with selfishness. The Master flipped the dildo around, allowing the Doctor to see that there was a hole in the bottom of it. 

“That’s where it connects to perhaps the most wonderful machine your pathetic humans have ever created,” the Master said. He walked back behind the Doctor, humming to himself as he went. “I could indulge your selfishness myself, but I’m afraid I’ve neither the time nor the...stamina to punish you properly.” The Master worked the dildo into the Doctor, making his toes curl. So recently devirginised, the rough, odd shape of the dildo made the invasion feel rather uncomfortable. “Of course, I can last much longer than your pets, but unfortunately, even I get tired sometimes.” The Doctor heard the Master fiddling around behind him with whatever this odd machine was, feeling something pressing the dildo into him further. The Master returned to the Doctor’s front, holding a small remote. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now,” he said. “You were selfish because you wanted to cum, so I’ll let you.” The Master grinned, pressing various buttons on the remote he had until the machine behind the Doctor started up, fucking him slowly and deeply. 

“Master,” he gasped, pulling hard at the restraints holding him in place. The curved shape of the dildo allowed it to rub right over his prostate with each stroke. The ribbed surface was just bearable enough to not detract from the immense pleasure he was feeling, but the Doctor knew it would eventually become torturous. 

“No need to ask for permission to cum, sweethearts.” The Master’s voice was sickly sweet—mocking him. He patted the Doctor on the head patronisingly. “Because you may: over and over and over again.” The Master looked down at the remote, pushing whatever button ran the machine faster, which made the Doctor moan loudly. “I’m going to have good fun playing with this.” He watched the Doctor whimper and squirm for a few moments, fiddling with the buttons on the remote in his hand without pressing any of them. “I’d love to stay and watch,” the Master said. “But I’ve got a lot of work to do—ruling over the planet and all that. Don’t you run off anywhere.” The Master giggled at this remark of his like a schoolgirl, tapping the Doctor’s nose with his pointer finger. “Ah, yes, and there are a few cameras.” He gestured around them broadly. “You know, here and there, so put on a good show for your Master.” Knowing anything that sounded even a little bit like the word ‘no’ would anger the Master all over again, the Doctor said nothing at all, instead reserving himself to whimpering quietly and trying to keep himself from moaning. “Good boy.” The Master ruffled the Doctor’s hair before leaving him to his final punishment. The Doctor was unsure of what supposed work that the Master had to do, but he was sure the Master would leave him for a good long time. Determined to hold off cumming as long as possible for fear of the pain that would no doubt follow, the Doctor turned his focus to looking around the room for the cameras the Master had set up. He found them in the corners of the room and suspected a few more may be in suspicious items here and there. After all, what use was a stuffed bear in a so-called playroom? 

Not wanting to give the Master the satisfaction of observing him come undone, the Doctor allowed his head to droop—albeit rather uncomfortably—so that he could stare at the floor. He breathed deeply, trying his best to focus on anything other than what was happening to him. But the last thing the Doctor wanted to do was be left alone with his thoughts, so the Doctor tried to clear his mind and think of nothing at all. This worked for a while. It was almost like being asleep, but with a notable absence of nightmares. 

A few floors above the Doctor, the Master was very much avoiding looking over schematics sent by his advisors or planning the best location for a new arms factory. After all, watching the Doctor was far more interesting than either of those things and what was the point of being in charge if you couldn’t have fun while you were at it? The Master tapped that infernal, four-beat rhythm on his desk, eying the remote just out of reach of his tapping fingers which controlled the fucking machine he’d left to entertain the Doctor. The Master had not touched the machine until today, so he didn’t exactly know what all of the buttons did. He watched the screen curiously, wondering when he ought to rouse the Doctor from his relaxed state. His fingers inched closer to the remote. 

“It’s not exactly a punishment if it doesn’t hurt,” he mumbled to himself. He was sure the Doctor was employing every ounce of concentration to avoid orgasm—and doing a remarkable job at that. “Impressive, but no fun.” The Master picked up the remote, feeling a delightful sense of power with it in his hand. “I wonder what this one does?” The Master chose a button at random, watching the Doctor intently for any indication that something had changed. The Master grinned as the Doctor looked up suddenly, his whole form shifting forward. Switching to the camera behind the Doctor showed the Master that whatever button he pressed had caused the dildo to spin. He couldn’t help but smile again, looking back down at the remote in his hand to press something else. Glancing just past the remote, however, the Master noticed just how much he was enjoying this punishment. He pursed his lips, wondering if the Doctor felt the same. Another quick switch of the cameras to the one under the spanking bench confirmed his suspicions. “Well someone is enjoying this a little too much.”

Back in the so-called playroom, the Doctor’s thighs were trembling, and he knew that he couldn’t take much more. The machine working the ribbed dildo in and out of him ran faster, making the Doctor whimper, and because of the changing settings, he knew that the Master must be watching him. The thought of it pushed the Doctor even closer to the edge. He quite liked the thought of being watched. In fact, he liked the thought of it so much so that—the next thing he knew—he tipped right over the edge.

But as soon as he felt himself hit the point of no return, the machine stopped, leaving the Doctor with a horrible, disappointing feeling in the pit of his stomach as semen dribbled down his cock. Without the satisfaction of a normal orgasm, however, the Doctor was left erect and frustrated. But he soon discovered his prostate was just as sensitive as it had been before—if not more so—when the machine hummed back to life. The Doctor nearly screamed as the dildo began abusing his prostate once again. The mixture of pain and surprise on his face, now directed right at the camera hidden in the stuffed bear in front of him had the Master with his hand down his trousers. He relished in the beautiful sounds the Doctor was making—a positively intoxicating mixture of pleasured gasps and pained groans. Before either of them knew it, the Doctor was cumming again. He shouted as more of his semen splattered onto the black, tile floor and his whole body lurched forward as much as it could in a fruitless attempt to get away from the relentless machine. A quick flip through the cameras allowed the Master to see nearly every muscle on the Doctor’s body constrict and flex as he was overstimulated. 

“Master,” the Doctor gasped as he began to cry. “Please stop.” Though not particularly worried about being walked in on or one of his advisors hearing him, the Master grunted quietly as he made a mess of his expensive trousers. With nothing at hand to change into, the Master decided to simply take the trousers off and lounge around in his pants while he watched the Doctor succumb to the ministrations of the machine four more times. He observed it all curiously, switching back and forth between the different camera views and enjoying watching the Doctor go from crying to begging to screaming. And then the Doctor simply slumped forward and gave up, whimpering quietly as the machine fucked him. This had the Master bored after a few minutes, so he decided to return to the playroom. 

“Someone’s made a mess,” the Master said, switching off the machine. The Doctor merely sighed appreciatively in response, unable to find the words to thank the Master for the relief. “Have you learned your lesson pretty whore?” The Doctor smiled weakly at the compliment, nodding. He loved to hear the Master call him pretty. “Let your Master free you, then,” the Master said as he did just that, unbuckling each of the straps holding the Doctor down. The Master also helped the Doctor up, but the Doctor couldn’t stand on his own two feet for long. Upon standing up straight, his knees buckled immediately, sending the pair of them right to the ground. The Master aided in softening his fall, guiding the Doctor to be seated on the floor. The Doctor leaned heavily into the Master, his head drooping onto the Master’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry for misbehaving,” the Doctor said softly, his voice hoarse from how much he’d been screaming. “I’ll be better in the future...no matter where we are.”

“That’s a good boy.” The Master ignored the implications of the end of the Doctor’s sentence, unwilling to speak on the subject of ‘running away together’ again. It was a silly and childish notion, as far as the Master was concerned, and it brought up far more bad emotions and memories than the Master was comfortable with. “Now what do you say when your Master corrects your naughty behaviour?”

“Thank you, Master.” The disappointment of the Master’s earlier rejection somewhat dissipated, the Doctor was only minimally upset by being shut out once again. The Master, already having moved on from this proposition in his own mind, tapped the end of the Doctor’s nose and kissed his cheek. 

“Let’s clean my pretty, little whore up then, shall we?” The Master asked. The Doctor merely nodded, once more happy to hear that he was pretty. 

And though he’d been rejected again, the Doctor—in all of his endless optimism—couldn’t help but feel like he still had a chance and that he was making progress. He smiled up at the Master, full of this newfound confidence. Perhaps the Earth wasn’t doomed, after all.


End file.
